A Winterveil oneshot
by Consort
Summary: Raynor is in a rush to find something to wear for the Feast of Winterveil...


Oneshot: Winterveil

It had been two and a half years since James Raynor had found his way into the nexus. Two and a half years of alternating battle, caring for his family, and building up the community of Anchor. It was an exhausting life, but today he was in a great mood. Many of the heroes of Azeroth were throwing parties for their holiday of Winterveil, and Raynor, sipping his morning had just unfolded a handwritten invitation from a certain frost mage.

 _'James E. Raynor, you are hereby invited to the Grand Feast of Winterveil tonight! The grand feast is the largest of all in Anchor, so put on something nice, and bring a large appetite. Love, Jaina'_

The whole letter was in immaculate cursive, and a light blue ink. It was at this point he realised: He had exactly three shirts. None were particularly good. He had six hours to change that fact.

"Aw, help." he said.

* * *

Half an hour away, Tyrande was hunting in the forest, for her own feast for the Emerald dream's inhabitants. Brightwing was crouched by her side, as they both watched a particularly unlucky chicken strutting through the bushes. Tyrande drew back her bowstring, aiming for the bird's eye...

And Illidan crashed into the scene, dueling furiously with The Butcher. The chicken bolted instantly, evading the arrow by mere milliseconds. Illidan dashed around his demonic foe, making cuts, but achieving very little to the end of actually defeating the demon. Tyrande and Brightwing stormed out of the shadows, one slapping Illidan across the cheek, and the other reducing the Butcher to an angry pig.

"Illidan Stormrage! You are free to pick any battle you please, but by the light of Elune, I expect some self-awareness!" Tyrande said, as Illidan hung his head.

The Butcher-pig took this as an opportunity to flee, with an undignified squeal of terror at Tyrande's anger.

"I am hunting for our Winterveil feast, and you have just cost me time that I do not have! Come, Brightwing. We'd best try and find another meal." Said Tyrande, beckoning Brightwing to follow her.

The Faerie dragon called out to the crestfallen Demon Hunter "Ooh, you have messed up very very badly, friend! I think you should ap-ol-o-gize, friend!" She sang.

Illidan sprinted up to Tyrande, who immediately turned to face him with crossed arms. "Bring me a responsibly caught, immaculately prepared and above all, _fresh and natural_ chicken or turkey within the next six hours, and I'll hear you out." She said coldly. She stalked off, Brightwing in tow.

"Oh, hells." Illidan muttered.

* * *

Another hour away, in The Black Circle, Kerrigan was sitting cross-legged. The fact the rest of the Nexus was in celebration did not escape her notice, and despite her form, she couldn't help but feel... left out. The Zerg didn't celebrate. The word 'holiday' meant nothing to them. And even so... Only Abathur and Dehaka were self-aware. It wouldn't be much of a party with only two of them. Still, she had some powers as queen...

"Dehaka! I need to talk." Kerrigan said. The zerg in question lumbered around the corner.

"Yes? I listen." Said the primal zerg.

"I want you to find the Lost Vikings. When you do, bring them to me. I need to speak with them, so do not- well..." Kerrigan stopped abruptly as Eric scuttled into view.

He raised his hand "I heard our name?"

Kerrigan walked over, her wings spread out. Eric looked around in panic.

Kerrigan spoke "Come on out, you two." Olaf and Baelog stepped out of hiding from behind a Nydus worm. "Well, you've all gotten lost at the right time. Now. I am throwing a party tonight, and I will not be stopped. You three WILL be my guests at the occasion, and I will provide food that won't kill you outright. In exchange... You three will find a good gift for the swarm. You have about six hours. Turn up on time. Dehaka, you can go with them to make sure they don't disappear."

"Oh, heck!" The vikings said in unison.

* * *

Raynor was cruising through world after word in search of a nice formal suit, or at least a clean shirt and tie. The Vulture was jammed at full speed, as Raynor worriedly checked the time. Two hours down. The lands changed, and a small Terran shop presented itself. Raynor dismounted and ran inside, hoping to have his problems solved.

There were tools, cans of paint, assorted snacks, and even some furniture, but where were the clothes!? Where were they!? Aha!

Raynor ran over to the tiny clothes aisle. T-shirts, casual wear, jeans... But nothing was remotely formal, or tasteful for that matter. He clapped a hand over his eyes. Nothing to do but move on.

He mounted his bike, and rode off with increasing worry.

* * *

Illidan was having some luck. He'd found a chicken, after all. Just a matter of getting within distance to make a clean kill...

A very loud engine blew past. scaring the chicken away. Raynor stopped next to Illidan.

"Hey man, you know where I can find a... Er, you don't look too happy. You alright?" Said Raynor.

Illidan looked upwards in exasperation, as if to curse the universe itself. He faced Raynor. "No. No, I am very much not okay! I have four hours to catch, kill and prepare one of those wretched, stupid birds or I'm going to completely fall out of favour with Tyrande. Things are shaky enough as it is! And you've just scared off the first bird I've found!" He clutched his head "Now what!?"

Raynor scratched his chin "Well, I guess I could help. Got this gun, after all, and it's much better for killin' off non-magic stuff. Lead me to the target, man."

Illidan made a few faces, before settling on a normal frown. "Fine. Follow me, silently!"

They tiptoed forwards, and Illidan pointed to a thick bush. "In there. I cannot use fel abilities to slay the accursed fowl. Make it clean, Raynor."

Raynor leveled his Heavy Rifle, switching to single bullets. He stared intently at the bush, seeing a small sliver of feathers. The chicken poked out it's head and... A perfect shot.

"One headless chicken, courtesy of yours truly. Now, you have any idea where I can find a new shirt around this place?" Said Raynor, holstering the gun.

Illidan ran forwards, grabbed the body of the chicken, and held it over his head like a trophy. "Mine! Victory is mine! Oh, Raynor. No, not that I know of. Better get going, hadn't you?"

Raynor realised he'd lost another hour, and ran back to the bike in ever-increasing panic.

* * *

The Vikings were still searching, under the supervision/enforcement of Dehaka. They had currently gathered nothing of relevance.

Olaf rummaged through the storage of an abandoned hotdog vendor, and came out holding a packet of incredibly low-quality sausages. They weren't even from the same time period as the foodie, but he could still tell these were unbelievably rubbish.

"Uhhh... How 'bout these?" Said Olaf, holding up the packet of meat that wasn't meat.

Dehaka looked sideways at the product "Useless. Good for nothing.". Apparently even a completely different species could also tell the sausages were less edible than the packet.

Eric danced around nervously. "Well we need to find something quickly! We don't have long!"

Raynor entered the scene, bringing his Vulture to a neat stop. He looked at the group of four raiding the abandoned stand, and asked "Say, any of you seen a good shirt anywhere around here?"

Baelog jumped on the spot "No! We're searching for our lives!"

Raynor walked over "For your lives? Y'all okay?"

Eric butted in "Well, your crazy ex wanted to throw a christmas party, so she needed someone to find a present for the swarm. And, being the heroes that we are, we volunteered!"

Olaf stroked his beard "That's not what I remember..."

Raynor stared at Eric "She's not that crazy. Well, most of the time. Fighting entire armies and all that. Anyway, I know her pretty well. Maybe I can help?" he said.

"Yes! Help us!" Shouted Baelog.

Raynor looked around "Okay... The swarm will want something that's either got unique genes... or lots of useful nutrients they can eat. Let's just walk to the next area..." He led the other four onwards, coming out in an extremely mossy quarry.

Dehaka sniffed, or at least used a similar sense. "Essence. I detect... Essence."

Olaf bent down to look at something "Ooh look at this! What a strange plant!"

He stood up, holding a bright blue, _transparent_ mushroom. The rest of the group looked at it in confusion.

"It feels a bit like jelly! Here, what do you think?" Said Olaf, holding the bizarre mushroom out to Dehaka.

Dehaka looked closely "Useful essence. Extremely toxic and poisonous. Could adapt into venom. Excellent... gift."

Olaf winced at 'toxic and poisonous'. He held the mushroom away from himself and asked "Not so good for me to eat? Well, at least I can give it away!"

Baelog marched up to the stout viking and grabbed the mushroom "No, you are not going to be transporting something that looks like food! Poison or not, I know you'll eat it!"

Olaf looked at his feet "Yeah, that's right" he admitted.

Eric looked to the sky "Oh no, we'd better get back! We've only got two hours!"

"Do not worry about travel." Said Dehaka. "Store your gift somewhere secure. And now, hold on to this, tightly." He moved the bone spike of his tail over his shoulder.

Baelog made a horrified face. "You want me to grab that?! You must be mad, I've seen you throw it at people!"

Eric plucked the mushroom out of Baelog's hands and stuffed it into his pocket. "Shush and hold on, we're not getting back otherwise!" He reached up and grabbed the barb like a handle, then offered his free hand to Olaf.

Olaf took Eric's hand, and in turn extended a hand to Baelog, who shrugged and took hold. Dehaka saw the chain was complete, and began burrowing into the ground.

Raynor looked at one of the strangest scenes of his life, a primal zerg burrowing into the ground, with three people holding onto its tail for a ride. First Dehaka entered the floor, then Eric disappeared below view, then Olaf tumbled in, and finally Baelog was swallowed by the earth.

Raynor shook his head. "Well, that's one way to get around." He said to himself, turning and walking back to the Vulture in bewilderment.

* * *

Illidan burst into the view of Tyrande, holding a now gutted and plucked chicken in his hands.

"Tyrande! The deed is done! Tyrande!" Called Illidan.

Tyrande's face remained stern. "Of that, I was aware."

Brightwing giggled from the boughs of a nearby tree. "Ooh, now you're in trouble, friend!"

Tyrande glared at Illidan with enough distaste for him to feel it through the blindfold. "Illidan. Stormrage. You have done what I asked. But..." Her voice was laden with enough icy calmness to make even Illidan's heart freeze in fear. "You were downright thoughtless about it. I already had one turkey ready for the feast. We would have been okay without the second. I sent you to get it to apologize, but I followed you, and I'm quite sure you know why I'm so angry with you after this."

Illidan stepped back "What? I didn't..."

"You had someone else do it for you! You didn't even offer thanks in return, let alone repay them! And their time is in short supply, they could have easily brushed you and your tantrum aside! But they chose to help you. Illidan, you have until their time runs out to solve their problem if you're still interested in forgiveness!" Tyrande said.

"I'll do it! Hold the chicken, Tyrande. One shirt, coming up." Said Illidan.

Tyrande nodded "Brightwing will go with you, to ensure you don't cheat again."

The Faerie Dragon laughed "Use your hunt, friend! I will catch up!"

Illidan posed, then shouted. "YOUU..."

* * *

"ARE NOT PREPAAARED!" Illidan obliterated a particularly unfortunate bug on the wall of a desolate shoppinng mall, then brushed the dust off his shoulders. Fel hunting was a fast way to travel, as long as there was some life to target.

Brightwing phased into existence next to him. "Quickly, friend! There is not much ti- Wow!"

Illidan didn't bother looking for the door, and flipped through the store's window. He sprinted through the aisles, ignoring jewellery, foodstuffs, appliances... There were the clothes!

He rifled through the section at full speed, throwing item aften item aside. Eventually, he found some shirts that looked like they'd fit Raynor. A white one, a black one, a blue one... That should do. He flipped through another window and ran around to Brightwing.

"Quick, warp to Raynor!" He yelled, holding the pile of shirts.

Brightwing shook her head "I cannot do that yet, I need to let my magic build up friend. And why, friend?"

"Once you've warped to him, I'll hunt you." Said Illidan.

Brightwing looked at him "Night elf, that would hurt! Why hurt Brightwing?"

Illidan frowned "Okay, I'll hunt you without using my warglaives. Better?"

* * *

Raynor arrived at the black circle with half an hour remaining and in a state of despair. He'd found nothing, and he was possibly far enough away from Anchor that he wouldn't even arrive to the party on time. He slumped into the handlebars of the vulture.

"Should have just gone in what I've got. I've really messed up now..." he mumbled.

Raynor looked up, and saw Kerrigan talking to The Lost Vikings. Talking to them couldn't be bad, he decided. He awkwardly walked over to the group of heroes that sat around a mound of... something Kerrigan was using as a table.

He waved to everyone as he approached. "Hey, everyone. How's the party going?"

Kerrigan turned to face him with a confused smile "Jim! I didn't expect you to show up. Don't you need to be over at the big party in Anchor right now?"

Raynor shifted uncomfortably. "Well... I meant to go, Sarah. But I was asked to wear a nice shirt, and I haven't been able to find one. Now I'm not sure if I can even make it in time... What do I do? I can't let Jaina down."

Olaf spoke up. "Well you could always have Kerrigan stab you again!"

Baelog nodded "Yes, that's a pretty good excuse!"

"Uhh, maybe not. I think I'd rather Kerrigan didn't have to kill me every time a party was concerned." Said Raynor.

Suddenly, Raynor was illuminated for a few seconds before Brightwing appeared next to him.

"Hello, friend! Oh, and new friends!" She said to the zerg. "Do not be scared now, friends. Here comes another friend..."

"you are not prEPAAARED!" Illidan rocketed into her at maximum hunting speed, knocking her into the side of a nydus worm.

"I am okay friends!" called Brightwing.

"Raynor! Take these!" Said Illidan, holding out the three shirts.

Raynor stared at them like they were solid gold. "You... You got me some shirts! You're a lifesaver, man. Now... How can I get back to Anchor quickly?" He said.

Kerrigan smirked "Well, Jim... How would you feel if I offered you a way back. You don't mind, Dehaka?"

Dehaka offered his tail. "You know what to do."

Raynor grasped the barb firmly. "Thanks. You guys... You really bailed me out here."

Kerrigan shook her head. "From what I've heard, this is justice for all the people you've bailed out. Now, I think you'd better go."

"Thank you, everyone!" Called Raynor as Dehaka began to pull him into the ground.

Brightwing watched as they disappeared into the soil. "Ohh, I want to try that, friends. Do you think that he will let me try that, friend Kerrigan?"

Kerrigan looked at Brightwing sideways "I've been watching it the whole time, and I still have no idea how your relationship works. You could convince him to do a lot of things."

* * *

Raynor was discovering that 'Primal Zerg Tunnel' was probably not the best transport method ever devised. Dehaka pushed through the earth at breakneck pace, and clods of dirt often splatted into Raynor. Holding onto Dehaka's tail was proving difficult as well, as it was shaken around by the rapid burrowing. And believe it or not, Zerg don't smell fantastic. Being right next to one for an extended period of time made Raynor think of bad body odor that also incorporated burnt tires and a hint of rotten flesh. If not for his previous experiences as a marine, he would have probably gagged. Still, he held onto his precious shirts tightly and waited to emerge.

Dehaka broke the surface just outside Anchor's main hall. Raynor climbed out of the hole after him, caked in mud. He quickly ran to the front of the building. One minute until the party started. He ran back to the hole, where Dehaka was still shaking off any dirt that had stuck to him.

"Hey, how much dirt is on my face?" Said Raynor, as he stripped off the old top he'd spent the day in and began hastily doing up the buttons of the only slightly soiled smart black shirt.

"If you were a zerg, you would be normal." Said Dehaka.

"Right, so I'm really dirty." Said Raynor, finishing the buttons.

"Perhaps I should lick it off?" Said Dehaka.

"Uhh... Thanks, but isn't your tongue coated in glue? And- shoot, I'm out of time! I gotta go, bye have a nice party!" Said Raynor, fleeing to the hall.

* * *

Jaina looked over the guests. Everyone was here, ready for the official start of the Winterveil Feast, apart from Raynor. _Where could he be?_ Thought Jaina, as she prepared to make her opening announcement.

She tapped the side of her wineglass for attention. The light chatter stopped, and the assorted heroes turned to look at Jaina.

She cleared her throat "Citizens of Anchor. This celebration marks our third Feast of Winterveil in this world, and the beginning of the next year. Winterveil is a time of love, unity, hope and joy, so today, we hold our annual feast in spirit of these values."

Raynor burst in, with his face and hair still muddy, boots hastily wiped, and a smart shirt that stood out nicely. "I'm so sorry I'm late! But I couldn't let you down by coming in my regular shirt and..."

Everyone in the hall was staring at the messy commando. Raynor felt like he was being put on trial.

Jaina broke the awkwardness with a laugh. "You made it! I was so worried you wouldn't come when you disappeared... Don't worry, Raynor. All I hoped was for you to make it here, and you're in time. Come and tell me all about it. But first..."

"Let the feast begin!" She cheered to the room.

As the rest of the hall loaded their plates with various foods, Raynor walked up to Jaina sheepishly. "Sorry about your speech. " He said.

Jaina simply hugged him and laughed. "I thought it was just what my speech needed! I was worried it was a bit boring. Still, how did you get so muddy? Tell me all about it." She reached for the table, and added some roasted potatoes to her plate.

Raynor sat down and smiled "Well, I realised that I didn't have any good shirts..."

 **Author's note: Here, a christmas oneshot! Raynor and some of my favourites to write as the main characters. Although there are references to Stormclouds, mainly the character pairings, this should all make sense if you haven't read it. Happy Feast of Winterveil, everyone!**


End file.
